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III. z.

• Girt with many a Baron bold

• Sublime their starry fronts they rear;

• And gorgeous Dames, and Statesmen old

In bearded majefty, appear.

In the midft a Form divine!

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Her eye proclaims her of the Briton-line; • Her lyon port, her awe-commanding face, • Attemper'd sweet to virgin-grace.

• What strings fymphonious tremble in the air! • What strains of vocal transport round her play! 120

• Hear from the grave, great Talieffin ©, hear;


They breathe a foul to animate thy clay.

Bright Rapture calls, and foaring, as the fings,

• Waves in the eye of Heav'n her many colour'd




III. 3.

The verse adorn again

Fierce War, and faithful Love,



b Speed, relating an audience given by queen Elizabeth to Paul Dzialinski, ambassador of Poland, fays, And thus fhe, lion-like rifing, daunted the malapert orator no lefs with her stately port and majestical deporture, than with the tartneffe of her princelie checkes'.

Talieffin, chicf of the Bards, flourished in the VIth century. His works are still preserved, and his memory held in high veneration among his countrymen.

And Truth fevere, by fairy Fiction dreft.

• In buskin'd measures move

• Pale Grief, and pleafing Pain,

With Horror, Tyrant of the throbbing breast. 130

• A Voice, as of the Cherub-Choir,


• Gales from blooming Eden bear;

• f And distant warblings leffen on my ear, • That loft in long futurity expire. [cloud, 135 Fond impious Man, think'ft thou, yon fanguine • Rais'd by thy breath, has quench'd the Orb of day? To-morrow he repairs the golden flood,

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And warms the nations with redoubled ray.

Enough for me: With joy I fee

• The different doom our Fates affign.

Be thine Defpair, and scept'red Care,
To triumph, and to die, are mine.'

d Shakespeare:

• Milton.

The fucceffion of poets after Milton's time.

He spoke, and headlong from the mountain's height Deep in the roaring tide he plung'd to endless night.







Now the Storm begins to lower, (Hafte, the loom of Hell prepare,) Iron-fleet of arrowy shower

Hurtles in the darken'd air.

* To be found in the ORCADES of THORMODUS TORFÆUS; HAFNIÆ, 1697, folio: and alfo in BARTHOLINUS, VITT ER ORPIT FYRIR VALFALLI, &c.


· For the better understanding this ode,' the reader is to be informed that in the eleventh century, Sigurd, earl of the Orkney-islands, went with a fleet of ships and a confiderabic body of troops into Ireland, to the assistance of Sitryg with the filken beard, who was then making war on his father-in-law Brian, king of Dublin: the earl and all his forces were cut to pieces; and Siftryg was in danger of a total defeat; but the enemy had a greater lofs, by the death of Brian, their king, who fell in the action. On Christmas-day, (the day of the battle,) a native of Caithness,

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Glitt❜ring lances are the loom,
Where the dusky warp we ftrain,
Weaving many a Soldier's doom,
Orkney's woe, and Randver's bane.

See the griefly texture grow,
('Tis of human entrails made,)
And the weights, that play below,
Each a gafping Warrior's head.

Shafts for fhuttles, dipt in gore,
Shoot the trembling cords along.
Sword, that once a Monarch bore,
Keep the tiffue close and strong.



in Scotland, faw at a distance, a number of persons on horse. back, riding full speed towards a hill, and seeming to enter into it. Curiosity led him to follow them, till, looking through an opening in the rocks, he faw twelve gigantic figures, refembling women: they were all employed about a loom; and as they wove, they fung the following dreadful fong; which, when they had finifhed, they tore the web into twelve pieces, and (each taking her portion) galloped fix to the north, and as many to the fouth. Thefe were the Valkyriur, female divinities, fervants of Odin (or Woden) in the Gothic mythology. Their name fignifies Chufers of the flain. They were mounted on fwift horfes, with drawn fwords in their hands; and in the throng of battle felected fuch as were defined to flaughter, and conducted them to 'Valhalla», the hall of Odin, or paradife of the brave; where they attended the banquet, and ferved the departed heroes with horns of mead and ale.

Mifta black, terrific Maid,

Sangrida, and Hilda fee,
Join the wayward work to aid;
'Tis the woof of victory.

Ere the ruddy fun be fet,
Pikes must shiver, javelins fing,
Blade with clattering buckler meet,
Hauberk crash, and helmet ring.

(Weave the crimson web of war)
Let us go, and let us fly,
Where our Friends the conflict share,,
Where they triumph, where they die.

As the paths of fate we tread
Wading thro' th' enfanguin'd field:
Gondula, and Geira, fpread
O'er the youthful King your fhield.

We the reigns to flaughter give,
Ours to kill, and ours to fpare;
Spite of danger he shall live.
(Weave the crimson web of war.)

They, whom once the defert-beach
Pent within its bleak domain,
Soon their ample fway fhall ftretch
O'er the plenty of the plain.







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